


Whispers

by goldveines, howdydarlin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, i have no excuses only words, these are my words so please enjoy my fluff, this is unadulterated fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldveines/pseuds/goldveines, https://archiveofourown.org/users/howdydarlin/pseuds/howdydarlin
Summary: Keith and Lance are happily domestic, and Keith can never have enough of it.AKA, Keith is a sappy mess.





	Whispers

Keith snaps the picture when Lance's face is pitched fully into laughter; his eyes are squeezed shut, the bridge of his nose is scrunched together, he mouth hangs open so that his teeth are on display, his dimples crescent the sides of his cheeks, and his head is pitched back to catch it all. There aren't enough moments like this - Keith could have an infinite amount, and still there wouldn't be - so he makes them infinite whenever he can. 

The one he's captured just now is because Lance watched as Keith spilled ranch over his shirt. Even after putting on a different shirt and returning to the couch with Lance, the other man continued to crack up. Apparently the whole scene was quite hilarious, and Keith was more than happy to capture it. 

Maybe one better than capturing the moment, knowing the story, is seeing the background. Being able to see that Lance is sitting on their couch, the one in front of the window. There's a string of lights on the window sill because Lance believes that there's never a bad time for lights. Hanging over the back of the couch is one of those couples blanket, one Coran had gotten them a year or so ago, swearing that it was a tradition in his family that needed to be continued. 

Keith can see all of these things in the picture and it makes his heart feel so much that it aches. He presses a kiss to Lance's crumpled cheek, and then to his lips, which find their way from a smile to something more smooth. His laugh turns into a more pleasant hum. Keith brings his hand up to Lance's face, smooths out the lines. Lance's own hand moves to the nape of Keith's neck and tangles itself there. 

Their legs are tangled and warm together, a mess from Keith throwing himself on the couch to capture Lance's laughter and Lance being already in laid-back manner. Their chests touch and Keith is burning. The kind of slow burn that feels like you wouldn't mind it; like sitting on the edge of a bonfire, or passing your hand through a candle flame. It's the kind where Lance's next action doesn't stifle the burn, but breathes life into it. 

Laughter catches in Lance's throat and he pulls away from the kiss. He captures Keith's bottom lip as he does, and it slips slowly from Lance's mouth. Lance bumps his forehead for a moment, then brings his head down to his chest. They lean back together to the edge of the couch, stretch their tangled mass of legs out to something more comfortable, and find the spaces where they fit. 

Lance presses a light kiss to Keith's pulse, and it jumps. Keith can feel the smile at his neck. It would be an injustice to refrain from saying that he loves Lance, so he doesn't. 

"I love you." It's warm, and he says with his lips pressed to the crown of Lance's head. 

Lance's return is muffled into Keith's shirt, and he can feel the words leak into his chest, "I love you." 

Keith remembers when "I love you" was hard for them. He remembers when Lance hurt to say those three words, and Keith didn't think that he could. He remembers the first time they did say them, crying on the floor of their tub as the water beat down on them. It was awful, and it hurt. It was like a blooming in his rib cage, something that was beautiful, but something that was crushing his lungs. 

God, he doesn't think he used to be this sappy. It's part of the deal, he supposes, this happiness he's found. 

Lance loops an arm around Keith's middle and says, somehow managing a mix between childish and sexy, "Carry me to bed, my mullet-man."

"Sorry," Keith plays, "but you've not paid the toll."

Lance lifts his head from Keith's chest so that he can look at Keith fully, "The toll wouldn't happen to be a kiss, would it?" He leans in closer to Keith. 

"No, but I might accept one as a bribe."

"Oh you might?" Lance raises an eyebrow and makes an _Oh really?_ face.

"Only one way to find out."

"Oh of course."

Lance does not cheap out on bribes, so it is. He kisses Keith until he draws a sound from him, somewhere between a moan and a whine. Suffice to say, the toll was paid in full. When Lance pulls away, Keith doesn't respond, but rather wraps an arm around Lance's back and beneath his legs. He pulls them off the couch together and down the hallway. Lance's arms come around Keith's neck for insurance. 

Keith rests Lance on top of the bed, and Lance pulls him down with him. Their lips meet and it's too much impact, so they pull apart and go for something softer, slower. Lance's hands are around Keith's neck still, pulling at the fabric of his shirt and inching it up so that he can pull it off. Keith's own hands are messing with Lance's pants button. He imagines that they won't do anything tonight, but he's not disappointed. He like these moments, the ones that fill his head with static. 

They break their kiss to take off their shirts when they need to. Their hands pull at each other's pants until they're kicked off to some unknown corner of the room. Keith reaches a blind hand for the corner of the blankets and pulls them back. They wiggle their way beneath them and pull closer. Things are more subdued beneath the covers, but still their hands roam and their lips find each other. 

Sleep sets into them slowly, and their hands still at smalls of backs, at shoulders, at hips, at thighs. Their lips become less hungry and more searching. Then soon, altogether they stop kissing and start looking. Keith looks at the freckles across the bridge of Lance's nose, the faint scar above his eyebrow, his half-lidded eyes. 

Keith could say that he wants an eternity of nights like these, because he does, but it would save him future time to simply say that he wants an eternity with Lance. He wants an eternity of Lance laughing so hard that he snorts. Of Lance complaining about Keith's hair, then smiling when it gives him opportunity to hold onto something when they kiss. Of Lance being unsure, and being able to sooth and comfort that part of him. Of knowing that no matter what, Lance is here for Keith just as much as Keith is for him. Of knowing that Lance loves him, and that he loves Lance. Of getting to hold each other as they fall asleep, and wake up to Lance's drool on his arm and Keith's hair in his mouth. 

This must be why people tell the same love story with different characters a thousand times over, because it means an eternity of this. Keith understands that want.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr [@goldeines](http://goldveines.tumblr.com)!


End file.
